Page 154 of Less

Three weeks and nothing.

No threats.

No accidents.

No strange messages.

Nothing.

And I hate it.

Because monsters don't just disappear.

They wait.

As we arrive at the theater for the final dress rehearsal before tomorrow night's opening, that feeling returns.

Heavy.

Wrong.

Like a storm gathering in the distance.

“You okay?” Amanda asks.

I turn.

And immediately forget how to breathe.

She's standing there in her robe.

Hair and makeup done.

Those green eyes watching me with concern.

She needs to go get dressed—to prepare for this role. I know that. I also know this is what she’s worked for her whole life.

But all I can do right now is stare.

Because honestly?

I just can't help it.

She's gorgeous.

Always—but right now? Even more than usual.

“Fuck, Sweetheart, look at you.”

“What? You’ve seen me in makeup before,” she says, scoffing and trying to dismiss this—but I won’t let her.

“If you didn’t have to go on stage in two minutes I’d back you into that dressing room and strip you naked, make you scream before I let you come,” I growl and dip my head, dropping a quick, close-mouthed kiss on her neck.

“Less,” she moans and I love it.

Love the way my name sounds spilling from her lips.

“You're gonna knock 'em dead, Rusty.”